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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24342181">starstriken</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuude_rest/pseuds/kuude_rest'>kuude_rest</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Starstriken AU [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cinderella Phenomenon (Visual Novel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Arguing, Bad Parenting, F/M, Fairies, Fluff, I guess this is a 'what if?' fic, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lucette changes on her own, Magic, Mentions of Triggering Concepts (potentially), Mild Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Pre-curse Karma, Princes &amp; Princesses, Route Spoilers, Swords, Swords &amp; Sorcery, Trauma, Uncursed AU, Witches, minor OCs - Freeform, ocs but dw they're not gonna steal the show lol, rewrite of sorts, runaway princess, world building</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:15:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,464</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24342181</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuude_rest/pseuds/kuude_rest</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“...What, you couldn’t stand to be around your own child, Father? Couldn’t bare the thought of me? And when you finally got rid of Mother, you think you can replace the past with a new family? Start again? You can’t replace the past with a whole new family, Father! I’m so, so glad,” she seethes, “that you are happy now, but all you’ve done is show me that you are happier with a family that isn’t yours. You treat these people better than you ever did I. I am your DAUGHTER. Your FIRST. BORN. And you can’t even look me in the eyes, you can’t even bare the thought of spending time with me, just the newer, shiner family that you’ve created for yourself. I’m so HAPPY, that your happiness is more important than mine.”</p>
<p>Genaro had tried, truthfully. But she had driven him away, and he had given up.</p>
<p>(In which Lucette runs off to find her own family. To find her own reasons to have faith in the world, and to escape the fate that has her hands tied... But fate is fickle, and try as she might, running away is much harder than it should be for a human girl.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lucette Riella Britton/Karma, Lucette Riella Britton/Waltz Cresswell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Starstriken AU [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757401</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Lost Crown Princess</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is an AU so it doesn’t stick to the canon and has a lot of world building that isn’t canon to the original storyline, and uh, it’s clear who this’ll end up being for but I will likely write one shots / alternative endings because I LOVE all the boys so much... :)<br/>(Especially Karma/Klaude aaaa)</p>
<p>In honour of the new game coming out (27th of November I believe?) I wanted to write something big and chunky during these trying times. And also, because I love world building. Hehe.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Winter yawns into the back of her hand, the witch watching her with a warm expression in his eyes. They’re sitting in the kitchen of the inn, a black cat sitting on Winter’s lap as she threads her fingers through his fur, cup of tea sitting in front of the two of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s been a long day, Eylon.” Winter sighs, watching him as he weaves the skin of her arm together with deft skill. “I’ll have to go back to the tailor to get a new blouse...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’d been attacked by a thief with a hidden blade; she hadn’t expected it in the slightest. Winter was skilled with a sword, good enough to collect bounties for the guards that couldn’t chase up in the Kingdom, but she was still learning. Even so, despite her teachings of human nature as a child, she had forgotten that people could use dirty tricks even in fights. It was no matter however, as Eylon had been skilled with healing magic and had more often than not patched up Winter when she’d gotten into a scuffle she hadn’t expected. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Eylon had first told her that he was a witch, Winter felt panic. But then she remembered how he’d responded when Winter had told Eylon that she was really called Lucette, and that she was the missing Crown Princess from Angielle; and the two were able to find true companionship together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not all witches were bad, Eylon had taught her; and it’d been six months since she’d ran away from the Palace, living hidden away with the witch. And truthfully, Winter had changed considerably since she’d ran away; having initially overthrown her knight from the horse she’d tricked him into procuring for her, and stolen his sword. She’d sent it back once she had a new one of course, through a complicated amount of couriers who had no idea who the original sender was. Eylon had helped her with that, too - the glamour he’d had cast on her was too overwhelming that even the witches that had invaded Brugantia a few months prior to find her couldn’t even manage that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Life was simple.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, bar the cuts and scrapes she’d receive on a weekly basis, but thankfully Eylon was one of the few who'd been passed the magic gene of healing magic. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>his sister; the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Witch Doctor</span>
  </em>
  <span> - though Winter didn't have the pleasure of meeting her yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There we are,” Eylon pulls away from her arm and the skin looks good as new, save for the bloodied sleeve of her blouse. “All done. Drink up,” he gestures to the cup of tea, and she follows his orders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Save for the cool manner in which Winter often spoke in, one couldn’t peg her as the Ice Princess she’d had the reputation of having just through her personality, now. She was happier, her eyes were brighter, and more willing to trust. And slowly but surely, her wishes to become Queen started to dwindle, somewhat. She was perfectly happy doing the same thing in and out, because it kept her thoughts off of her past. Kept her thoughts free of worry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks,” the young woman smiles at him. “What a birthday present.” She shook her head, chuckling at herself. “I was truly just meaning to go and pick up some fruit from the grocer,” Winter confesses, “and yet I was still involved in such a scuffle.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well that’s what you get for living in the slums of Brugantia, Winter.” He shrugs hopelessly as the cat that had settled himself in her lap sits up and stretches, headbutting her hand for more affection, which she gladly obliges to. “Speaking of birthdays,” Eylon stands and pulls open one of the cabinets, Winter’s eyes narrowing as she watches him produce what looked to be a pastry. “Happy seventeenth birthday, Winter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her eyes widen as she lets a small smile grace her face. “I told you not to do anything for my birthday, Ely.” Her voice sounds stern, but the smile just gives her true feelings away. “Thank you…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sets the pastry down in front of her and he beams at her, those green eyes of his sparkling. “It’s quite alright. It’s the least I could do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ely stood at 6’3”. He was an older man at around twenty five, running an inn in the slums of Brugantia; his features youthful and handsome. His eyes were a deep green colour, donning long, black hair that he’d often keep tied up out of his face. A witch, his sister Gladys being the infamous Witch Doctor; he was talented in his skill and during the Great War had cast a glamour over himself and his sister in order to hide from prying eyes. The two tended to stray away from violence given the nature of their magical skills, and hadn’t been particularly popular for it, either. Gladys had hidden herself in the woods, whilst Ely simply chose a different name and decided to stay in Brugantia, due to the pacifistic nature of the King. It was safer for him that way, and the two kept in contact through letters. Lucette hadn’t met Gladys yet, though from the stories he’d told her, she supposed it was for the best considering her anxious nature. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You ought to eat that before you head back out tonight, Winter. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of your birthday because… I know how difficult it must be for you.” He admitted, brushing his fringe out of his face. “Not long until you’re eighteen,” he chuckled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Winter flushes, picking at the carefully constructed pastry. She was somewhat partial to sweets, though recently she hadn’t really the time to indulge herself. It was sweet - an apple tart that just </span>
  <em>
    <span>crumbled</span>
  </em>
  <span> in her mouth, bursting with flavour. “Don’t remind me,” Winter shook her head. “I don’t even want to think about it yet, it’s - honestly a little bit stressful with everything you’ve told me. I’ve really tried to </span>
  <em>
    <span>remember</span>
  </em>
  <span> but… I can’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re reading the books though, right?” About the Great War?” He asked, going to sit with her, a frown adorning his face. Try as though he might, he was unable to undo the magic that Hildyr had cast on her daughter. He supposed that it was just harder than most considering she’d been the previous Tenebrae holder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She nodded. “I pretty much… Understand what happened, but… My mind is fog.” Winter just shrugged as she finished the pastry thoughtfully. “I can’t even remember anything from within the castle… Just - just being alone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eylon sighed softly. “I’m sorry I can’t refresh your mind more…” He shook his head. “Perhaps it’ll come with time, but - I suppose for now, all I can do is offer you my tutelage.” He reaches for the cat, Clementine, and pets him gently. “If you want it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Winter pulls a face. “I don’t want to blow up your kitchen, and I… I’m still unsure if…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s perfectly alright. In your own time, honestly,” Ely reassured. “I’d rather you learn whenever you’re ready to. I just want you to be prepared for the future. I’m under the belief that you’ll be the next bearer of the Tenebrae, so I’d rather you be ready if it does happen. But again, I’m… More than happy to mask you here until the day you’re ready to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Eylon.” Winter murmured softly. “I really appreciate everything you do for me.” She finished up with her pasty, and picks Clementine up to relocate him onto Eylon’s lap instead. “I’ll be back late tonight, so leave the back door open for me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” Elyon smiled, nodding his head. “I have to go and rescue Amanda from her duties, anyways. Happy Birthday again, Lucie.” He winked at her as she just shook her head at his nickname. “Be safe, though I’ll always be here to patch you up,” he promises as he watches her leave through the back door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once Lucette had left the inn, she let out a sigh she didn’t realize she was holding. The cool air of the night was refreshing, for once. It felt weird for it to be her birthday and for her not to be in the palace. To not have her secret celebrations, though those had stopped once her Mother had died.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her Mother… Lucette sighs again. She had been nothing after her Mother had died. Felt nothing. Had been entirely… Hopeless. And she’d wanted her Father to reach out to her, to hold her tightly in his arms and tell her that he loved her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d never done that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So when a year had passed, and King Genaro married Ophelia, Lucette felt nothing but emptiness. And finally, when she was sixteen, Lucette had finally grown sick of being cast aside for a newer, shinier and happier family. So she’d ordered her knight, Sir Fritzgerald to give her his sword, and dismounted him from the horse she’d tricked him into getting under the guise that she had wanted to visit her Mother’s grave, Lucette ran away from the kingdom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a miracle in itself that she’d managed to run away, but even more so that she’d managed to survive. Admittedly her thoughts had gotten dark, riding out to wherever she could take the poor creature; wondering if she was better off waiting for someone to put her out of her misery out in the wilderness. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then she’d ran into Eylon, who’d thought he’d just stumbled across a lost maiden who had no place to call her home. He’d taken the time to visit his sister, and hadn’t expected on the trip back to have run into Lucette. But he’d taken her in once he’d realized just how distraught she was, seeing the state she’d been in. Had offered up the inn as a home, and had taught her everything he could about the world once she’d started opening up to him about her previous life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d truly granted her wish. He wasn’t much in the ways of a parental figure, more of a brother; and once she’d properly confessed that she was really the Crown Princess, he’d agreed to keep her in Brugantia for as long as she needed to be there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucette hadn’t shown any signs of wanting to leave, yet. And if Lucette wanted to continue hiding, or even live the life she was now leading for the </span>
  <em>
    <span>rest </span>
  </em>
  <span>of her life, he’d do her best to let her do that. Tenebrae or no, they’d have figured out a way to live as inconspicuously as possible.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leather boots crunch into the cold gravel beneath her feet as she walked, eyes cast up at the sky for a moment. She knew she should be more on her guard, but she was simply just keeping an eye out for trouble. It was the least she could do, considering the nature of the Brugantian slums. No kingdom was perfect, after all, and Lucette had known that her entire life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her Mother had always told her that she must only ever show strength, but the thought only brought her expression to a grimace instead of bringing her comfort. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” an oddly regal voice comes from somewhere behind her, and Lucette spins around within a moment, sword drawn and pointing at a man who’d also drawn his sword, too. “Lower your sword, darling. I won’t hurt you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucette blinked. And then somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind, she recognises the man, and almost instantly drops to a knee. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your Highness,” Lucette’s voice is confident, trusting in Elyon’s glamour to keep her from her disguise being seen through. Not that anyone would recognise her with her garments, the short, choppy pixie cut she’d given herself, or the fact that she was holding a sword. “Forgive me, I had thought you were a thief.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Prince of Brugantia laughs, and sheaths his sword, stepping towards her to offer a hand. “I would not have revealed myself like that if I were, my dear, though I suppose from the rip on your shirt, you already know that.” He speaks so informally with her, though she supposes it is because he does not recognise her as the crown princess, despite having met one another briefly in the past. “A woman as beautiful as yourself should not be on your knees like that, I should be the one apologising to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She takes his hand tentatively as she stands, her sword being sheathed itself as he reaches to kiss her knuckle lightly, which she inwardly cringes at. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am surprised that you would be walking around at this time of the night alone, though the sword speaks for itself.” He tilted his head as Lucette takes her hand back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I could say the same for you,” Lucette - no, Winter, bites back, an eyebrow cocked at him. “You’re unattended.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, but if I were attended by someone, I wouldn’t have the chance to talk with someone as lovely as yourself, now would I?” It’s his turn to raise an eyebrow at her, a coy smile on his lips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Winter can feel herself heating up, though she supposes it’s the unneeded flattery that’s causing her to react in such a way. “You flatter me.” Is all she says, simply, but her tone reads otherwise, to which the prince laughs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Klaude Aidric Renaldi Mattheus Almonte. It is an honour to grace your presence.” He smiles with that princely smile of his, and if Lucette had been any other person, she might’ve melted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead she tries to bite back a scoff at his comment. “Winter Britt.” The name falls from her lips easily; it’d been the one that she’d gone by for the past six months after all - Winter having come from the nickname ‘Ice Princess.’ She was trying to prove everyone wrong, after all. Especially after she’d found out about everything that her mother, Hildyr, had put the country of Angielle through. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>thought</span>
  </em>
  <span> I knew who you were,” Klaude’s smile only widens, and Lucette’s heart stops for a moment before he continues speaking, “you’re the one whose taking in the bounties around this part of the city, aren’t you?” He leans against the wall in a rather unprincely manner, tilting his head. “I’d thought you were a man, truthfully, with the way the commoners whisper about you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Winter huffed. “Forgive me, your highness, but surely you are not being </span>
  <em>
    <span>sexist</span>
  </em>
  <span>, now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Klaude looks surprised at her bluntness, but he laughs. “Oh no. Surely not, darling. I was merely hoping to duel this so called hero of the streets, though hurting such a fair maiden as yourself…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She realizes quickly that manners aren’t necessary in such an informal setting. “I am far from a maiden, your Highness,” she says. “You might offend someone with your sexism.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Again, he seemed surprised, but instead of anger, amusement crossed his face. “You are rather feisty, aren’t you?” Klaude bites back a laugh. “I must admit that I was seeking out Winter so that I could challenge them to a duel, and then I’d just so happened to come across a woman I couldn’t deny the company of.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She huffs again, shaking her head. “I see. Are you still planning on requesting a duel, or are you too taken aback by the fact that I am a woman?” Lucette was no master with a sword, but thugs and thieves her easy enough to scare into going back with her to the guards. Especially with their lives on the line. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” He asked, pushing himself off of the wall, a cocky expression crossing the young prince’s face. “I won’t go easy on you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Neither will I.” She draws her sword without warning, pointing it at him. “I am sure, but I must warn you… I won’t give you the princely treatment that you might desire. I do fight dirty.” She may have watched the knights spar from her window, entranced by their movements as a child, but she also knew how thieves fought now. Winter had picked up a thing or two.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Klaude just laughs and drew his own sword, biting his lip as his brighten. “If you’re not going to treat me as a prince, drop the polite tone. Call me Klaude.” He strikes first, metal clashing against metal as she parries him, pushing him back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He is surprised at how strong she is, expecting her to be as dainty as she looked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucette just shook her head, going in for her own hit. “Okay then, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Klaude</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Perhaps you should drop the endearing terms with me, then.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their strikes keep clashing against one another, and Lucette can tell that he’s holding back, even with her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This can’t be this easy, Klaude. Please, if you’re going to fight me,” a swipe and deflect, “fight me properly. I told you I’m not a maiden and I expect you to respect that.” She swings her sword at him again, though with more force, and he steps back, stumbling somewhat, her sword pointing at his chest with the new opening. “Either fight me properly or yield.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He blinks, almost surprised once more as she glares at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then within an instant, she’s on the ground. Her face hurts, but she can’t tell why, and he’s leaning over her, their proximity too overwhelming. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yield,” he breathes, and she can feel his breath on her lips. It’s enough to make her blush, but she pushes him off of her forcefully and scrambles back up, sword readied again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” She retorts.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Empty Hallowed Halls</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Nine months.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rod had never seen the King - his </span>
  <em>
    <span>father</span>
  </em>
  <span> - in such a state. The palace was… A lot more open, a friendlier place to be, and at times his father seemed relieved; but he knew the truth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Knew how guilt ridden he was for Lucette to have just up and ran away like that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knows how distraught everyone at the Marchen was, how </span>
  <em>
    <span>worried</span>
  </em>
  <span>. A dark part in Rod’s mind wonders if they’re better off without Lucette. If things would be easier. They already were, but — there were times that they weren’t. Much like when Lucette </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the castle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Like when Emelaigne found Lucette’s diary last month, and had come to Rod in floods of tears having discovered what she’d written. How she hadn’t known how badly Lucette had been treated, or at least, how </span>
  <em>
    <span>lonely</span>
  </em>
  <span> she felt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Emelaigne had shown Genaro, his expression had become sombre. Later that evening, he’d chanced upon him crying, their mother hugging him tightly as he spoke about how he’d failed to show her how he’d adored her, as forced he was within the marriage with Hildyr to her bidding. Emelaigne hadn’t let Rod read the diary, but had told him bits and pieces in the month that followed. Had told him about how her Mother had taught her to only trust her. That her Mother was the only one who would ever love her properly, and that anyone else seeked to use her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It only made him realize that she was being groomed for the position that Delora and Parfait feared. And they hadn’t the chance to curse her before she turned seventeen, and now they had nine months to find her — dead or alive — and bring her back to Angielle where they could hopefully convince her to do good and take her place as the Tenebrarium holder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’d just hoped that she was still alive, but with what he knew of Waltz, if she was dead, he would’ve likely been the next to inherit the Tenebrae. And he would’ve felt it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rod’s stood outside Lucette’s room, brooding. He’d seen his mother pass by here; place a hand on her door before continuing her day, seen Emelaigne leave dolls and gifts in her room for when she’d return. He’d started to understand why she’d left now. He recalled the argument that they’d had the night before she’d ran away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You are not my sister. Stop pretending to be as such.” Lucette finally snaps, setting down her cutlery. “I cannot and will not sit here any longer and play happy families with you!” They had been eating their meal in an uncomfortable silence, as was often the case whenever Lucette dined with the family. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Lucette…” Emelaigne looks close to tears, and Rod glares angrily at the redhead as she furrows her eyebrows, infuriated. She had tried to invite her into the town, offering a chance to spend some time with her, but Lucette wasn’t having any of it, her heart sinking in her chest at even the slightest suggestion of being seen by the citizens of Angielle.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Do not talk to your sister like that, Lucette!” King Genaros slams his hands on the table. “This is your family and you’ll be damned if you don’t treat them as such!” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“No.” Her icy gaze fixes upon her Father. “How dare you.” He seems at a loss for words; Ophelia watches helplessly as the blood relatives argue. “You </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>NEVER</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> even tried to eat meals with me, your Highness. Where was any of this when Mother was still alive, huh? I ate alone, for years.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I…” He trails off, suddenly looking guilty. “I couldn’t…” Genaro knows why, but he can’t bring himself to say it. He knew what Hildyr had done to their daughter, what she had been made to forget, the people she’d been made to forget. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“...What, you couldn’t stand to be around your own child, Father? Couldn’t bare the thought of me? And when you finally got rid of Mother, you think you can replace the past with a new family? Start again? No.” She stands, glaring at him. Everyone else in the room is silent, and for a moment, Lucette looks like she could cry. “You can’t replace the past with a whole new family, Father! I’m so, so glad,” she seethes, “that you are happy now, but all you’ve done is show me that you are happier with a family that isn’t yours. You treat these people better than you ever did I. I am your </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>DAUGHTER</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>. Your FIRST. BORN. And you can’t even look me in the eyes, you can’t even bare the thought of spending time with me, just the newer, shiner family that you’ve created for yourself. I’m so </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>HAPPY</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>, that your happiness is more important than mine.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Genaro had tried, truthfully. But she had driven him away, and he had given up.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You might think you can fix this, but you cannot fix years of neglect and distance by replacing everything around me. Nothing will fix the pain, and the sorrow that you’ve caused me. Where were you when Mother died? When I needed my </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>FATHER</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> to comfort me? You were gone. You were always gone and you’re supposed to love me unconditionally because I am your </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>CHILD. </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>And yet, and yet… And yet you still treat these people better than your own flesh and blood.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Lucette, I…”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You can’t even tell me that you </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>LOVE </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>me!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The room is silent again, for a long time. Lucette is shaking. Genaro tries to speak, but he’s cut off.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Save it. I don’t want to hear your pitiful excuses. I’ll eat alone in the future. It’s better than sitting here, in the same room as you and being cast aside. I’d rather be alone than spend another moment with a coward who doesn’t care about his own daughter.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The girl turns, her fists white with anger. Her cheeks glisten in the light, she’s crying. Lucette isn’t sure of the last time she’d actually allowed herself to cry, but… She felt weak. Her Mother would be ashamed. She leaves the room, leaving it in a startling silence, more solemn than it had ever been.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rod soon learnt about how she’d stolen Sir Fritzgerald’s sword, taken one of her horses, and bolted the next evening. Fritzgerald had shown up mere moments after she’d been announced missing, and had begged Genaro for forgiveness, begged him to let him be the one to go and find her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d been so distraught -- and in the moment, Rod had to stop Sebastian from saying what was on his mind. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What if we just… Didn’t look for her?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had been a dark thought, and he remembered how Sebby had looked at him when it’d even cropped up in his mind. As he pushes the door open, his thoughts wander. He’d never really… Been in there, but now he’d stepped inside, he felt his heart sink.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The room was as it always had been - cold, empty. It was meticulously tidy - though he knew that their Father hadn’t allowed any servants in this room except to dust. The only thing that’d changed was the small pile of gifts sat at the door, left from months and months of Emelaigne visiting her room in her own (misplaced) guilt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His gaze falls to her bookshelf. There were piles upon piles of books, some in languages he couldn’t understand even with his royal teachings. Books about diplomacy, about the royal courts - others about the neighbouring countries, their royal families.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t expect her to have those kinds of books either.” Genaro’s voice makes Rod jump, as he turns around to face the King, who is just smiling at him sadly as he stands in the doorway to her room. “I apologise if I’ve interrupted something,” he explained. “I tend to come here to think about where she may have gone… It seems there is a lot about my daughter that I did not know about,” he says, holding her diary in his hands. It’s the one he’d given her all those years ago, in one of the secret birthday celebration rooms he’d planned for her. He hadn’t expected her to use it. “She can speak so many different languages, and her art is… Phenomenal. And I never knew a thing about it.” Genaro shook his head as he goes to put Lucette’s diary back in the place that he knew it resided. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you… Happy, Father?” Rod asked quietly, watching him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” he says simply. “And I won’t be until I can have my daughter back, and I can fix my mistakes.” The man sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Come, we’ll have some tea. I think it’ll cheer Emelaigne up, too.” Genaro smiled sadly at his step-son, gesturing for the two of them to leave her room. There’s something on Rod’s mind, something he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>seen</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but at the time, he thinks nothing of it, and continues on his way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next morning however, it strikes him within a conversation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Parfait and Delora are sitting in one of the private meeting rooms of the Marchen, speaking with Waltz. Rod knew of Waltz, had known what he’d done to protect the Kingdom. He was unsure as to why Waltz was so… Adamant about finding Lucette too, but he supposed that it was just because he was a witch, and he was concerned about the fate of their futures, too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That surge of energy isn’t something that should have been felt until her birthday, Waltz. It’s concerning,” Delora murmured to Waltz, their voices hushed. “It’s not uncommon for the next Tenebrarium holder to inherit their powers early if there is no current holder, but it… Felt wrong. Weird. You’ve felt it over the last few weeks or so too, haven’t you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waltz nodded, his brow furrowing. “It would be safe to say that a witch has got her. And if it’s as you say, it could be that the witch </span>
  <em>
    <span>does</span>
  </em>
  <span> harbour her, won’t be a good one.” Waltz puts a hand to his head. “If only I--” the movement causes him to catch Rod standing in the doorway, and he looks up with a wry smile on his face. “Ah, your highness, my apologies. We were just talking about Lucette.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rod nodded, and goes to sit beside him, hands crossing in his lap. “What’s this about witches?” He asked. “About Lucette?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re just concerned,” Parfait explained. “It seems that she could be in some kind of danger, considering the energy levels of the Tenebrarium have increased somewhat.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If it’s about magic, can’t you just track her energy signatures or - does it not work like that?” Rod suggested tentatively. He didn’t particularly want Lucette back, for fear that she’d just be exactly the same, but it was cruel of him to deny her help if she needed it. Sure, his relationship with her was fractured, but… If she were dying, Rod wouldn’t just stand by and let it happen. He’d do </span>
  <em>
    <span>something.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It doesn’t work like that… If she’s with a witch, she could have a glamour on her, and none of us would be able to see through it. Except for…” Delora looked at Waltz, who just shrinks back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would, but… It’s near impossible with my curse, now. I don’t have nearly the amount of power or strength that I used to.” Waltz shook his head, and Rod just resigned himself, furrowing his brow in thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Strength? Power?” Miss Karma waltzed into the room, aura shining with confidence. Karma had been staying in the Marchen for the past month or so, and the only people who knew why were Parfait, Delora and Waltz. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d been cursed recently, and forced out of his kingdom. He was still trying to come to terms with this fact, but had simply put on a facade; a mask, to cope with it. He’d brought with him his skills, afterall, and after a few weeks of begging, had finally agreed to assist Garlan and Jurian with their training in swordsmanship. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It seems you were simply </span>
  <em>
    <span>begging</span>
  </em>
  <span> for my presence, dears.” He tilted his head as he smiled at the bewildered faces in the room. “I heard about the lost Crown Princess when she’d first gone missing, but… I had hoped she’d have returned by now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Parfait beckons for Karma to sit, to which he does, choosing to sit beside Waltz. “How much do you know about her?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Me?” Karma raises an eyebrow, and laughs. “Not too much, honestly. Only that she’s the daughter of the witch that started the Great War, and that she had the potential to banish curses.” He looks away as he says this, knowing his hopes for </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> were now shattered until she was found again. “She ran away when she was sixteen, correct? So she’d be seventeen now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Delora nodded. She was unsure as to whether or not she could trust this runaway prince himself, but it seemed they had little choice, considering the circumstances. And he seemed to know enough, anyways. “We’ve been trying to search places we’d think she’d have gone, but now it’s all the harder considering the fact that we don’t know what she could look like now, or the fact that we believe she’s being harboured by a witch now.” She taps her head thoughtfully. “And I can’t think as to why any </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> witch wouldn’t tell me if they had her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The King of Brugantia,” Rod raises an eyebrow at what Karma starts to say, trying to think why that sounded too familiar, “had people search the kingdom for her too, but there was no signs of her at all from what I heard.” Karma is careful not to give anything away around Rod, him being the only one in the room that knew nothing of his heritage. “Apparently nobody knew where she could’ve gone, for there were no clues--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Clues?” Sebby speaks before Rod can allow it to happen. “Rod saw books in Lucette’s room, and most of them were about Brugantia,” the plush says, moving slightly to make it apparent that he’s the one speaking and Rod isn’t. “We both thought it was odd that those books in particular were the ones that were read up on more, giving the state of their spines.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rod deflates as Sebby does all the talking, realizing how he’d seen through that entirely. He wouldn’t have even given it a second thought, if Sebastian hadn’t been there with him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But Brugantia has been searched by the King himself as Karma says - that and by our own scouts.” Delora explained. “I don’t even think there </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> witches in Brugantia.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s not.” Karma confirmed. “There are rumours, but there aren’t any particularly notable witches within the Kingdom. Any that are known sit on the royal court; but they’re not Brugantian. And as Delora had said, there wouldn’t be a reason for them not to tell Delora if any of them had her unless they were working to become traitors.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rod raises an eyebrow at this, wondering how he’d know so much about the royal court of Brugantia, but he says nothing of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The only rumour that would be </span>
  <em>
    <span>worth </span>
  </em>
  <span>investigating would be the fact that there was a doctor in the slums that could heal any wound, and if </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>couldn’t, he knew where the witch doctor lives.” Karma explained. “But again, it was all rumours, and no one could ever tell me who he was, or where exactly it was he lived.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But if it’s a rumour, there’s got to be some base to it, no?” Waltz asked, trying to rack his brain for information surrounding the witch doctor. He knows who he’s talking about, at least, but he doesn’t know why on earth he’d be interested in harbouring the Tenebrarium holder when he’d been so adamant on keeping him and his sister out of the Great War despite the pleas from both sides. He hadn’t seen or spoken to him for </span>
  <em>
    <span>years</span>
  </em>
  <span> now, though. “I have an idea of who you might be speaking of, but if no one could tell you who he was, then he’s clearly been using glamors to hide himself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And he </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> be using one on Lucette, too.” Delora added. “She could look exactly the same as she did nine months ago and none of us would be any the wiser.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Parfait just looks tired. “We need more evidence,” she murmured. “It’s… Good that we might have a lead, but… We can’t just leave the Marchen without knowing that we could find her. It’s too risky.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karma nodded, looking somewhat concerned. “I have a friend in the Brugantian slums who might be able to help us.” He tapped his chin. “It might take a week for me to contact her, it all depends on the couriers of course. But if I informed her about the situation, she may be willing to help.” The runaway prince looks guilty for a moment, and his frown deepened. “She helped me leave Brugantia to get here, after all. And - well - I should probably tell her I’m still alive. I owe her that much, at least.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I appreciate the offer, Karma,” Parfait says. “But I’m not sure if I can let too many individuals know about this situation. It’s a tad bit delicate, and I wouldn’t want to put your friend in unnecessary danger. Not if she’s not a witch or a fairy herself, and certainly not if she’s going to go scouting for a witch if she’s alone.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose you’re right. I don’t even know what the Princess looks like, let alone the witch in the slums.” He sighs, almost as if he’s relieved that he doesn’t have to contact her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You -- don’t?” Waltz asked, looking surprised, “I’d have thought you of </span>
  <em>
    <span>all people-”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, now that he’s here we can tell him, can’t we?” Parfait interjects, pointedly looking at Waltz and then at Rod, to which he very quickly stops speaking out of respect to Karma’s secret. “If you’re going to stay at the Marchen for much longer, I believe it would be wise for you to be debriefed on what she looked like, in case she does enter the Kingdom again for whatever reason draws her back.” The fairy smiles at Karma gently. “Last we knew, Lucette stands at 5’5”, has golden eyes and… Pink hair, though it’s far darker than mine. Strawberry blonde.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Known for her icy exterior,” Delora interjected, but as she speaks, she spots the colour draining from Karma’s face. He’s shaking his head, looking distant. “...Karma? Do you know something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t speak for a moment, a hand on his chest. “She’s been right under my nose this entire time,” he laughs, but it almost sounds </span>
  <em>
    <span>bitter</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “I understand why - now - I -” he snaps back into his composure as he realizes that everyone in the room is staring at him. “That matches the description of my </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Almost perfectly.” It was hard to forget the face of someone he’d fallen for, let alone someone who was partially the reason for his curse. It was almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>ironic</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “There’s not many women with golden eyes, and certainly not-” he laughed again, feeling incredibly stupid, “with names like </span>
  <em>
    <span>Winter</span>
  </em>
  <span>, though now I completely get why she’d called herself that--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So she </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> in Brugantia?” Waltz cuts Karma’s muttering off. “Do you know what she looks like now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do,” Karma says calmly, unable to meet the questioning gazes in the room. “She’s the reason I was cursed in the first place, or at least… My involvement </span>
  <em>
    <span>with</span>
  </em>
  <span> her was why.” He looked sheepish - almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>guilty</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “I can’t go to back Brugantia right now, though. You understand why, right?” Karma’s expression is vulnerable, as though he doesn’t want to divulge more information about his involvement with the missing princess despite everyone’s sudden interest. When Parfait nods, he speaks again. “She’s cut her hair. Taller now, her build has changed considerably. Lives with an innkeeper who she calls her brother, though I never spoke to </span>
  <em>
    <span>him </span>
  </em>
  <span>much.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is she like, though - that’s the most important thing we need to know. We can’t - we can’t just approach her with information as heavy as this if she’s the same person…” Delora trailed off in thought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The red haired prince laughed. “What is she like?” He runs a hand through his hair, which he’d worn down that day, donning his Miss Karma facade. “She was certainly cold, but… She - when she laughed, her eyes lit up like the stars, always put up a fight and… Was </span>
  <em>
    <span>captivating</span>
  </em>
  <span> in all aspects -” he pauses when he realizes he’s rambling. “Alas, despite her manner, she was kind above all else. Not like the rumours I hear on the streets here. She might be a witches daughter, but she wasn’t as… Cruel as everyone fears. Honest, determined - and above all else, passed on the hope to others that life for them could change. She’s a good person, and she flourishes on those streets.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>the next chapter will recount karma and lucette's time together before he was cursed, and what exactly happened when he was cursed :))) i hope this makES SENSE this chapter is set three months after the first one, but the next one will recount those months before time will become more linear again :') if u have any questions i will update the notes with my answers &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>okay so incase ur confused: lucette is referred to as 'winter' to conceal her identity (which totally won't last)<br/>eylon is related to the witch doctor who infamously cursed rumpel hehe (i called her gladys bc idk what her name is yet) and he runs an inn, he wasn't really related to the great war because he was too busy protecting his sister from it,,, he took lucette in knowing she was the next tenebrarum holder and decided to look after her bc she's a bit like his sister,, uhh,, yep so i'll try and describe brugantia some more for y'all in future chapters but i rly do hope this makes sense and that this isn't a big jumbled mess sddfh</p></blockquote></div></div>
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